Now the webs were gone, set ablaze in the most foul way. He had hidden some distance away and watched as Claybore’s soldiers doused the fragile webs with some volatile liquid, then touched a spark to one corner. For a brief instant, the entire web had been burning brightly, the strands standing out in orange-and-white flames. Then the voracious fire gulped down the web and went to work on the buildings.

Krek cared little about the humans. Let them do what they would to one another. But he had a special fear and loathing of the grey-clad ones. He saw what Lan Martak meant when he said that they were different, had an evil about them that transcended mere human foolishness. They went out of their way to be mean.

The tongues of flame spread quickly and caused great consternation among the villagers. The greys rounded them up and herded them off. And Krek watched it all.

Now he peered down from the majestic heights at the soldiers marching deeper into the hills to subjugate other villages. None stood for long against their armed and armored might. His mandibles ceased their spastic clacking and the spider relaxed. There had to be a spot so far away in the mountains that no human ever ventured to it. No humans, no grey-clad soldiers.

Krek walked up the side of a large boulder, over the top, and from there along a ridge and deeper into the mountains.

The rocks were so lovely, the spider reflected. They provided ample footholds and the surging peaks presented challenges in web design and construction techniques. Krek personally had spun no fewer than forty web patterns, one for each of the major uses and many decorative ones. It was only fitting, after all, for a Webmaster to be artistic as well as astute in all matters dealing with the web.

Krek lumbered along for almost a week and one sunny afternoon stopped to rest. He blinked at what lay revealed in a valley below him.